


The Porny Ones

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically what it says on the tin folks.</p>
<p>Porny Pydia ficlets.</p>
<p>(specific tags, triggers, etc will be in the beginning chapter notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Porny Ones

**Author's Note:**

> Well, uh, Britta was basically all "LETS DO PYDIA PORN THINGS ON WEDNESDAY!!" And because the world could use more Pydia Porn I agreed.
> 
> So I'll try to post something every Wednesday, but I'm not making any promises. I will however promise lots of sex and little to no plot.
> 
> -  
> Today's ficlet you can blame on A) the Johnathan Strange & Mr. Norrell mini-series, and probably B) The Glamourist History series as well.

“I dare say Mr. Hale,” Miss Martin managed to gasp out, fingers scrabbling at the fabric of his jacket. “This is most, _ohhhh_.” Her head lolled back against the wall as she orgasmed and Peter smiled in satisfaction.

He’d hired Miss Martin nearly a year ago to look after his daughter and teach her a little magic if possible; and yet ever since her scent had driving him nearly to distraction, not to mention she had a wonderfully biting intellect.

He buried his nose in her hair as he thrust in again, she may have reached her satisfaction but they had a ways to go before his, greedily inhaling her jasmine and lavender scent. She shuddered and gave an aborted moan.

It had been all too easy to get her alone with him, he’d just asked if they could talk about Malia’s recent progress. Every word she’d spoken ratcheted up the heat in him, until he couldn’t resist any longer and nearly slammed her against the wall of his study.

One of his hands slipped into her bodice once more, tweaking her now over-sensitized nipple. She gasped and arched, her legs tightening around him as he attempted to destroy the plasterwork.

But his action also seemed to bring Lydia back, at least a little, from her pleasure-drugged state. “If you ruin my dress,” her threatening tone is ruined by her constant panting. “I shall have to hurt you.”

It _is_ a nice dress, one of her nicer ones in fact, but really. He traced his nose from her hair across her cheek, putting him in the perfect position to kiss the corner of her mouth. “Then I will buy you a new one.”

“Or,” she moaned. “You could not ruin it.”

The urge to claim and bite her was growing, and he could feel his teeth shifting and and claws popping to make it easier. He growled and buried his face in her neck as he gave a particularly vicious thrust, Miss Martin’s inner walls clinging to him, making him work to pull out. “I dare say Miss Martin,” he could almost taste her frantic pulse. “You should show more respect for your betters.” It came out a bit more pointed than he meant it to, but it wasn’t as if he could take it back.

Her hands moved from his shoulders, nails scraping almost painfully up his neck. “Well, the next time I rut with one I shall,” it came out almost flippantly.

His mind flashed to the image of her with another man, bantering like this and taking her pleasure, and red crept into his vision. A snarl ripped from his throat, and wrapping his hands under her hips he hoisted her up a little, carrying her over to the desk.

Something shattered on the ground as he cleared a space for her, laying her down he didn’t give her the chance to recover, just began pounding into her. His snarling cut short as his own release finally came.

Almost gently he pulled out, taking care to straighten her dress to fall correctly. “Miss Martin?” He nosed at her cheek, “Lydia?”

She started and he looked up to see her narrowing her eyes at him. “Mr. Hale,” somehow she managed to sound prim. “Just because we’ve shared pleasure hardly gives you the right to address me by my Christian name.” She gave a haughty sniff.

He gave a huff of his own, and straightening his own clothing, dared to kiss her cheek. “Then I humbly apologize Miss Martin.”

A sharp laugh leaves her, but her smile is almost fond, as she sits up. “I do not think you’ve ever been humble in your life Mr. Hale.” She held out a hand, clearly expecting help down from the miniscule height of the desk.

Biting back a smile he took her hand and assisted in helping her down. “I do hope in time I’ll be allowed such an imposition.”

Her head tilted and she gave a thoughtful hum. “Perhaps.”

Oh, yes, Miss Martin will be quite the chase.

 


End file.
